Electric
by luwalhati
Summary: This is not a love story.
1. i – emerald

"Ryou, don't look now," Ai says, propping her cheek on her hand. She points to the classroom door, wearing a bemused smirk. "Someone's looking for you. It's not that hard to tell what with her shooting laser beams at the back of your head."

Removing himself from his lax position in his seat, Ryouta lets out an imperceptible sigh. Ai is the only one to witness it. _Must not let the crown fall._ "Who is it?"

"It's a tiny girl with the craziest hair," she says, squinting her eyes. Disapproval is written all over her face. "Your girls are getting more daring, Ryou—seriously, seeking you out at lunchtime?"

"I'll be right back, Ai-tan." He resists the urge to groan as he makes his way to the girl. She has a pocket-sized reporter's notebook in her hand, a pen in the other, and a high-end camera slung over her shoulder. There's a glint in her eyes that startle Ryouta—not daunting, but _intense_.

"Hey," he says, articulating smoothness into the monosyllable. He buries his hands into the pockets of his pants. "How can I help you?"

"Kise-senpai," she says, bowing. "I'm sorry to interrupt your break. May I have a word with you outside?"

Ryouta shoots Ai a glance over his shoulder before following his underclassman into the hallway. A frown is snug on her lips.

Despite his exasperation, Ryouta can't help but admire the untamed blonde curls that frame the girl's face, refusing to be contained by an elastic hair tie. It's so unlike Ai's long, warm brown, not a single strand out of place, combed a thousand times by his careful fingers. _Ryou, don't, it hurts_ , she says, but inclines her head to his touch anyway, unconsciously purring out approval. Like a cat. Ryouta hides his smile. Ai-neko. Neko-Ai. Nekai?

"I'm Hanashi Kiyoko," the girl says now. Her smile is brimming with assertion. "I'm with the school paper. Tachibana-sensei just gave our editor-in-chief the green light to have a Valentine's Day special article covering several known Kaijo High couples and we'd like—"

"And you'd like to interview Ai-tan and me?" Ryouta laughs, but all in good nature. "I'm sorry Hanashi-san, as much as I would like to participate, Ai-tan and I…we're not really a couple. We're just friends."

But he can't deny being mistaken like this sets something alight in him. A pleasant misunderstanding.

Hanashi's eyes go wide, her mouth agape. "Really? But we all thought…Oh god, Kise-senpai, on behalf of the school paper, no, the entire school, I apologize! I never realized…"

Ryouta smiles. Has everyone really regarded them like that? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Dating? In love? "Nah, it's okay, Hanashi-san. No harm done."

Hanashi bows again, this time in farewell. "Well, I guess this means I have to go. Do you know any second year couples we can interview Kise-senpai? Most of them are third years."

He thinks for a moment. He doesn't really fill his idle time involving himself in school gossip. "Not really, Hanashi-san. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Kise-senpai. Thanks anyway."

As she walks away, Ryouta takes a moment to admire the beauty of thawing winter through the window. The copses of trees on the schoolyard don silver and green, and the juxtaposition makes the darker hue stand out, gleaming like shiny emeralds. Overhead, the sky has yet to allow the sun her time. The desaturated clouds that cage her in remind him of gray eyes and thick eyelashes.

There are things you regret forever. And there are things you regret now, then remember with amused fondness afterwards.

With a grin, Ryouta breaks off into a jog—to the direction Hanashi has gone. _I hope you'll still love me._ He rounds a corner and finds her, right outside Class 3-3, and clasps her shoulders with both of his hands. "Hanashi-san," he says, urgency riddled in his tone.

"Oh, Kise-senpai," she says in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"I have the stupidest idea for your article. You're going to love it. Meet me at The Flamingo after six."

"The Flamingo? What's that? I haven't heard of it before."

"Google it." Ryouta removes his hands, suddenly overcome with pride for himself.

Hanashi is quick to fish out her phone. She taps the name on the search bar, and what she finds elicits a gasp from her. "But this is over in Tokyo! This is going to cost me an entire week's money!"

But Ryouta is already slinking back to his classroom. He waves his hand. "Guess that means you have one on me!"

When he comes back, Ai raises an eyebrow at him. She crosses her arms over chest. "You seem incredibly happy. Should I ask why?"

"I have a date after practice," he lies, sliding into his seat beside her. He searches for any change in expression on her face.

"That quick?" There isn't.

"Eh, she was so persistent." His heart sinks into his stomach. "I have nothing else to do, anyway. Might as well."

"Hmmm." Ai purses her lips. "Please reassure me that I won't have to deal with an accosting, soon-to-be-jealous-girlfriend?"

"No promises." Ryouta chuckles, but there's no mirth in his eyes. He looks away before Ai can find out.


	2. ii – pink feathers

The chill February afternoon finds Ryouta and Ai in the classroom, packing their belongings before they head out. The shrill dismissal bell has just rung, and everyone around them is scampering around, eager to leave school. Most of them no longer have any club commitments to attend to, including Ryouta. Basketball practices have officially ended last week, and since then he has spent his newfound free time concentrating on his modeling gigs and listening to Ai play.

"Ryou, what're you doing before your date?" Ai asks, slinging her book bag over her shoulder. She sweeps her hair over the other. "Do you have work?""Wait, let me just check." He brings out his phone and scrolls through his digital planner. He doesn't have a shoot until Wednesday. "I'm clear, Ai-tan. Why? Did you have something in mind you wanted to do?"

They trot out of their classroom, Ryouta waving to some of their classmates in goodbye, mostly the girls. _Chin high, crown in place. Always_.

When they get to the hallway, Ai answers, "I'm planning to go look for a job, but I don't know what type of work I want to apply for. It's just a really fuzzy decision I came up with last night."

He knits his eyebrows. This is the first time he has heard her name and the word 'job' used within a single context. Though his modeling does come in with a long list of privileges, enabling him to mix business with pleasure, it's still _work_. And it's still exhausting. Before he began, he never realized having his picture taken at several different angles would pull a considerable weight on him. (His agency has already prepared a contract for him to sign soon after he finishes high school— _For fashion shows_ , his manager told him, _just local brands, kid, no pressure_.)

But Ai, well…She never really lifts a finger to get what she wants. Things just fall into her lap, like they're fated to be hers. Plus, she doesn't even _like to waste her energy_ , so—

"Why did you suddenly think of that?"

Ai looks at him, biting her lip. "It's all because of you, Ryou."

"Me?" He blinks.

They climb down the stairs, Ai's shoulder bumping his arm. "Yeah. I've been watching you juggle two lives, playing basketball and being a model, since we met, and you barely break a sweat. I want to be like that, you know? And you get to have all these cool things without having to depend on somebody else's bank account, which does not hurt at all."

She huffs when they get to the bottom. "It's so awesome."

"Ah, Kise, great timing!" a voice chimes in, and the pair turn to find Genta Takeuchi, the basketball team's coach.

"Oh, Takeuchi-sensei," Ryouta says, bowing out of habit. "What's up? Uh, I mean, you needed me?"

Takeuchi-sensei grins at him, loosening the beige tie around his collar. "I was going to ask someone to call you, but it seems I've caught you at the perfect time. Anyway, seeing as you're about to go, come to the faculty office tomorrow at noon. I've something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

Ryouta casts a questioning look at Ai, who shrugs in response. He replies, "But, sensei, I don't mind if you call me in right now. I don't exactly have a lot going on."

Takeuchi-sensei waves him off. "No, no, it's not something we can toss around in passing. Tomorrow it is, Kise, and don't be late. I'll be taking my leave now, stay safe, you two."

As soon as Takeuchi-sensei is out of earshot, Ryouta asks Ai, "What do you think he wants to talk about?"

They resume walking. Ryouta keeps his strides slow so Ai can catch up with him—something Ai used to consider as an insult but now takes it in gratitude. To this day, Ryouta still finds watching her small legs catch up with his very amusing. She answers, "Dunno. Bet it has something to do with your grades?"

He pouts, his shoulders drooping. He's never been up there, with Ai and Midorima and Akashi, when it comes to academics, but he's confident he does a considerable amount of justice for his grades. "I think I've done fairly well in the last couple of terms, Ai-tan! "

Ai shakes her head, hands akimbo. "Not by my standards, Ryou. Not by my standards."

It's barely half an hour since they've been let out, but the school grounds are practically deserted. Very few clubs are still active, as most have retired early to accommodate for their senior members, who are expected to focus on their finals as well as on college admissions. It's all a sudden change for Ryouta—he is still acclimating to the feel of a quiet Kaijo High after class.

Upon reaching the gate, Ryouta pauses. "Oh, are you going to look for a job today, Ai-tan?"

Ai seems to ponder over this for a minute as she looks over her shoulder, to the passing cars. Then she shakes her head. "Nah, I think I'll have to run this by Arata first. You know him, likes to be in control of our lives. But I'll keep you posted if and when I do go job hunting. I need my wingman, of course!"

He loops an arm around her and pulls her closer. "That means we can go for a thousand rounds of ice cream today! And guess who's paying!"

"You, obviously! You're my only loaded friend!"

"Ai-tan!"

* * *

The Flamingo is a quaint little cafe nestled between a Nike retail store and a family-owned hardware. Ryouta admits it's not much, but every time he has a shoot scheduled in Tokyo he makes sure to bring Ai along so she can hang out here. He is fully aware that Ai takes to orbiting her life around her severe detest for any type of social setting, so it came as a surprise to him when she instantly developed a liking to The Flamingo—perhaps this is because, lined against the wall in the corner, stands a twenty-year-old pink upright piano. It is the only place he has taken her to that has a piano. So, instead of sleeping on the black, smelly couch at the studio (which Ai has fitfully dubbed as the 'cigarette pouch') while she waits for him to wrap up, Ai waits for him here, at The Flamingo, playing for customers, free of charge.

Ryouta, seated by the window, observes the sky outside has darkening. The deluge of pedestrians congeals. Hanashi Kiyoko is fifteen minutes late, and within that span of time Watanabe Fujioko, the owner, makes idle conversation with him. Ryouta and Ai have known her for almost as long as they know each other. There is no day in which Ai and Ryouta share a slice of cake at The Flamingo that Watanabe-san does not express eagerness to introduce her daughter to them. And today is no exception, of course.

She sits in the vacant seat opposite Ryouta. He watches her dimples crease as she smiles at him. "Kise-kun, how have you been?" Looking around, she asks, "Are you waiting for Ai-chan?"

He shakes his head, wearing his best panty-dropping (though adult-friendly) smile. "She has her hands full with something. Actually, I'm here to meet a friend"

"Oh." Curious, Watanabe-san arcs an eyebrow at him. "Is this friend a lady, perhaps?"

He laughs—the kind that puts other people at ease. He's a master at it. "Well, yes, Watanabe-san, but she's here strictly on business. She's going to interview me for our school paper.""Hmmm, my Kise-kun is quite popular then?" She pinches Ryouta's cheek. Her eyes flit to the wall clock behind Ryouta, and a broad grin lights up her face. "Oooh, Kise-kun! Look at that! Ayumi-chan's shift is going to start—you can finally meet her!"

"Really? What a coincidence! It seems destiny has allowed us to finally meet." In the two years that Ryouta and Ai have been coming to The Flamingo, they have never been introduced to Watanabe Ayumi. She's become a peripheral mystery to them overtime, but with how much her mother gushes about her, Ryouta feels as if she is a vivid memory of a past life, an old friend. A dog-eared picture tucked inside his wallet.

"How exciting!" Watanabe-san clasps her hands together. "She's also going to bring her friend, who's into sports, much like you. You play volleyball, don't you, Kise-kun?"

He shakes his head and lightly corrects her, "No, Watanabe-san. Basketball. I play basketball. I actually made it into the finals this year."

Maybe he used to play volleyball back in Teiko, before he was picked up by Akashi and the rest. Or not. Everything that existed beyond the basketball gym is now distorted in his mind. Lost in another lifetime.

Watanabe-san shrugs. "What's the difference again?"

They chat further about school, Ai's music, and of course Watanabe Ayumi. Hanashi finally comes just when Watanabe-san starts listing off Ayumi's hobbies. Ryouta breathes out a small sigh.

"Ah! Sorry, I'm late Kise-senpai!" Hanashi pants out. Her eyes land on Watanabe-san. "Oh, am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing too important, child." Smiling, Watanabe-san stands up and beckons her seat to Hanashi. "Here, sit, sit."

"Thank you."

Watanabe-san clasps her hands together, masking indifference. Her business face. "I'll be taking my leave now, gotta get back to my books. I'll bring in Hiroshi to take your orders. Enjoy your stay, you two."

"Thanks, Watanabe-san."

Hanashi sets her camera on the table, along with a pen, notebook, and a beat-up iPhone. "Sorry you had to wait so long, Kise-senpai. I have a valid reason. It wasn't because I was lost. I swear."

Ryouta's eyebrows raise.

"My editor-in-chief, Fujiwara Renji, took his sweet time approving my trip here as OB. Says there's no legitimacy to this interview. Well, I'm going to show him."

Just then, Hiroshi—tall, sandy blonde, a smirk on his freckled face—approaches their table. He nods to Ryouta. "Hey, Prince, no Ai today?"

Ryouta narrows his eyes at the moniker. Hiroshi knows how much Ryouta can't stand being called that. Ever since Ai pushed open the cafe's glass doors, he has not stopped buttering himself up to her. And Ai has not stopped ignoring him, too, thankfully. "She's busy."

"Shame, Watanabe-san had the piano cleaned today," he says, before pulling out a small notepad from his breast pocket. "So what'll it be for you two today?"

"A cup of Americano please," Hanashi answers without missing a beat.

"Got it." Hiroshi scribbles her order down. He tips his head to Ryouta. "And how 'bout you, Prince?"

"I'll have just a milkshake, and can I have a slice of Matilda fudge cake to go?" After a thought he adds, "And a matcha latte, also to go."

As soon as Hiroshi leaves, Hanashi turns on the recorder on her phone. "Now, senpai, let's begin."

Ryouta raises a hand to rub a spot on his nape. "Ah, about that, Hanashi-san, I need your help."

She tilts her head to the side. "My help? How?"

A nervous laugh pours out of his mouth. "I guess I have to be honest with you here, Hanashi-san. I haven't really thought _that_ far about my plan. It just…came to me all of a sudden."

"Okay, so what do you have in mind then, senpai?"

Ryouta thinks for a moment, looking out the window. All afternoon he has thought about this, and yet, nothing worthwhile has come to him like a fever dream. "Well, I'm still going to do the interview, that I'm sure of. But, considering as she isn't aware of this, and I'm basically exploiting her name, I want Ai-tan to get something out of this—how, though, I have no idea."

"And this is where I come in, I presume. _Boys_ , really—you're only good at thinking things up and letting us do the dirty work for you." Hanashi sighs and pages through her notebook until she finds a blank page. "Okay, let's start with the interview. I can think of something from there."

Ryouta's eyes light up. His heart drowns in relief at her words. "You'll do it, Hanashi-san? Really? You're going to help me?"

Hanashi leans back. "Yeah, I guess. This isn't about getting a big scoop anymore, seeing as how much Mizushima-senpai means to you. It would feel like I was betraying you. Plus, the school paper is going to benefit a lot from _the_ Kise Ryouta publicly professing his feelings for Mizushima Ai, the ice queen."

A frown forms on Ryouta's face. "It's not that, Hanashi-san. And Ai-tan's not an ice queen. It's more like…she's become an important person in my life, and I know what people say about her. She's not the nicest person on the surface, I agree, but I want to show them that Ai-tan's not just one side. She's amazing, Hanashi-san. I wish more people could see that."

"And while Mizushima-senpai is feared by most, Kise-senpai is nothing if not the king of grand gestures. Let's just hope for both our sakes she digs things like this, shall we?" She sits up straighter and motions with her pen. "Tell me the beginning of everything, senpai, how it all started. And don't leave anything out. Oh, they're all going to love this."

Eyes closed, Ryouta purses his lips. A feeling blooms in his chest, one he can't exactly name. Then, he speaks: "You know what they all say, there are three sides to a story—my side, her side, and the truth. I'll try my best to tell all of the sides. I won't promise you everything's pretty. I gotta tell you, Hanashi-san, as much as I love the girl, my relationship with Ai-tan is the messiest I've ever been in."

* * *

 _ **thanks for reading! this is a dry and unedited one (and painfully ai-centric), and i'm sorry for that, this was my poor attempt at setting the stage for the story to unravel. i'll make it up in the next chapter! also, i've decided my regular updates will be posted every saturday, but since exams are coming up next week (and i'll be taking a college admission test omg) i thought of updating in advance.**_

 _ **to the first two users who reviewed (Ryuu3003 and Nightmare-Taichou), thank you so much! you have no idea how happy i was reading your comments for the first time c:**_

 ** _and to all those who have read this update, please don't forget to follow, favorite, and/or review. your support inspires me :)_**


	3. I – morning sky

Panting, Tetsurou Kuroo slows his pace as his home comes into view. Ahead, the sunrise has just begun to color the sleepy suburb in a rosy blush, orange rays bouncing off window panels and clouded windshields. Gravel crunching beneath his shod feet, he trots up to the rickety steps where his mother, already donning her pink scrubs, perches. Cradled in her hands is a steaming cup of black coffee. The way Tetsurou likes it, too. Bitter and assaulting, the best way to yank yourself away from the clutches of sleep.

She studies him as he plops down beside her to unlace his runners. Sweat accumulates above his brows, and trickles down the incurvation of his back. He glances at her, and her look is quizzical, yet laced with bittersweet pride. "What?" he asks. "It's too early for you to be acting so strange, Mom."

When she smiles, Tetsurou can see proof of the years wearing her down. Though her eyes have remained the same—retaining their own brand of wisdom—her taxing work at the hospital has rewarded her face a couple of perceptible laugh lines and some harsh dark circles around her eyes.

"I didn't realize before that you've grown so much," she says softly. "I'm sorry I've just taken notice."

She reaches a hand to brush away the hair sticking to his face. It wanders to a shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "Your shoulders have broadened."

He pulls off a shoe. He doesn't look at her when he asks, "I look like him, don't I?"

"Not the least bit, Tetsu." Her tone is sharp. She blows on her coffee. It is quieter now, gentler. "Not the least bit."

* * *

 _ **hsdasdjhash! i couldn't help it! i'm sorry!**_

 _ **just a teaser!**_

 _ **ALSO (i keep forgetting to mention this) the title, electric, is named after a song by alina baraz ft. khalid (my angel!). i think it's a pretty popular song. i was writing a kise x ai one shot at 4AM and decided to play some music and when i heard the first few notes i was like yEP THIS IS THE ONE**_

 **Nightmare-Taichou:** ** _i apologize for the cliffhanger! (not :)) i can't wait for you to learn more about ai and her friendship with kise too! and ajshda i guess you have to read to find out about takeuchi and kise's meeting! i think you'll like it? (if not, tell me your thoughts!) i'm literally dying to answer your question, but i'll have to let the fic do it for me :D thank you so much for your support! you really lift my spirits up :)_**

 ** _thanks for reading! :)_**

 ** _don't forget to review (PLEASE I NEED THE MOTIVATION PRACTICING SELF-DISCIPLINE IS HARD), follow, and favorite!_**


	4. II – murder in the hallway

The upturned corners of Ryouta's mouth twitched. He was tired of smiling.

But the pictures kept coming. He felt as if he stood there for hours, in the crowded hallway, his arm over people with forgettable faces, his eyes screaming for help. The assaulting smell of cheap perfume. The _click_ of a shutter. A storm of smartphones. Hands finding their way onto his back. Giggles and nudges and getting pulled into brief embraces. Everything fanned a coming headache, like kindling a growing conflagration.

Behind his face, a war waged.

"I'm sorry, girls," he told the gaggle of fans. "My friends are waiting for me at the gate. Let's do this another time, yeah?"

Frowns showed. One mouth was twisted into a scowl.

 _Protect the crown_.

Ryouta sighed, fighting the urge to rub his temple. "Okay, how about one more?"

"Oi, Kise!" a familiar voice cut through the noise. Ryouta turned to see Kagami and Kuroko. "Come here, will ya? We got lost a couple times because you didn't show up!"

His face broke out into a relieved smile. "Kagamicchi! Kurokocchi! You came!"

Thankful that he finally had a reason to excuse himself, he gingerly waded through the sea of girls and approached the two. A hand on his hip, Kagami replied, "Of course, we came! Why wouldn't we?"

"Kagami-kun hasn't been to a school festival. This is his first time," Kuroko said. "We also figured to set aside any tension the Winter Cup has caused and have fun."

"Yeah," Kagami agreed. "Be grateful our coach gave us the day off."

Warmth engulfed Ryouta's chest. It was nice to know some of this old teammates did not receive his invitation with hostility. He pulled out his phone to check if there were any messages from the rest. None.

"I guess you guys are my only visitors today," he noted glumly, sliding his phone back inside his pocket. "All I wanted was for us to take a break before the preliminaries start!"

"It's okay," Kuroko assured. "Maybe it is best that they aren't here."

 _Is it?_ Ryouta thought. He believed in the spirit of competitiveness just as much as the others, but he was never one to let it get to his head. Basketball wasn't the only thing his life revolved around.

"Stop moping, Kise." Kagami clasped his shoulder. "Let's go and grab a bite to eat. I heard the food stalls are great here."

Oh, well. Ryouta grinned. He would make sure to take a lot of pictures with Kuroko and Kagami so the others would regret ignoring him. After all, nobody could ever resist the beguiling power of school festivals.

When they reached the sprawling oval, Kagami whistled in delight. On the field stood twenty pole tents, under which food stalls had been set up. Tables were also sprinkled around. Throngs of people were already milling about, paper plates in their hands. The smell of food reached their nostrils, beckoning them forward.

"What do you guys want to try out first?" Ryouta asked.

"I don't know about you," Kagami said, a look of determination on his face, "but I'm going to try everything out all at once."

Ryouta led them to a table where stacks of paper plates and cups and plastic sporks were placed. He grabbed three of each for them. Thereafter, Kagami unleashed himself and went about each stall with much gusto, while Ryouta and Kuroko trailed after him in no haste. Ryouta had promised that this would be a normal, basketball-free day with his normal friends. It seemed Kuroko had the same thing in mind as well because all he ever talked to Ryouta about was their school festival.

"Kise-kun, what is your class doing?" he asked Ryouta.

"We got the movie theater," Ryouta answered. "We were all disappointed—it was so boring. All we had to do was cover the classroom in black and rent a projector."

"I would like to do a horror house. I think it would be fun," Kuroko mused with a small smile. Ryouta chuckled. That would be very fitting of him.

"Class 1-4 is doing it! We should check it out after this!"

Kagami claimed a vacant table by the takoyaki stand. He placed a mountain of food in front of him and took no time wolfing all of it down. It was disgustingly fascinating to watch him. Kuroko sat down, sipping on a mango smoothie.

Suddenly, Ryouta's phone vibrated. It was a call from Moriyama.

"Hey, senpai," he said. He wondered what he was calling about. The basketball team had nothing to do for today, right? Yesterday they facilitated an open game called Murder, where they passed around several plastic knives to random students and whoever got one had to 'stab' another student within a given time. Ryouta and his teammates were the cops; they chased down players who had failed to kill. He could remember how much his stomach hurt from laughing too much while he ran after one murderer after another.

"You promised yesterday!" Moriyama accused. "Where are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kise, get serious! You promised you'd come to the mixer I arranged."

"Wait, that was legit?"

His senior sighed. "When is it ever _not_ legit with me when it comes to girls, Kise? Now move your ass up to Class 2-1!"

"But, senpai, I'm still with Kagamicchi and Kurokocchi! I can't just ditch them!"

"Those kids from Seirin? But I thought you were sworn rivals. Oh, doesn't matter. Can you bring one of them? We're one guy short."

"Senpai, what about Kasamatsu—"

"See you in ten!"

And he hung up.

Ryouta turned to Kagami and Kuroko. Bring one of them? But they were a package deal—you take one, you get the other. You couldn't just pick one of them. They were a combined force. Sitting down, Ryouta decided he would have to bring both of them. He couldn't let one of them wander around the school on his own.

"Ah, Kurokocchi, Kagamicchi, are you up for a little mixer?" He grinned sheepishly.

Kagami stopped eating to look at him. "Mixer?"

"I forgot I promised Moriyama-senpai I would come, and he just called to ask if I could bring more guys."

"I don't mind," said Kuroko. "Kagami-kun?"

Kagami seemed like he could not care less what they were going to do. "Sure, count me in."

 _Really?_ That didn't take a lot of convincing. Ryouta thanked them profusely, sending a quick text to his senpai.

* * *

They found Moriyama standing outside Class 2-1, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when they approached. At the sight of Ryouta's company, confusion crossed his face for a moment before he said, "Took you long enough. Come on, they're waiting inside!"

The classroom door slid open, and a girl dressed entirely in pastel greeted them. "Welcome! I'm Naoka, pleased to serve you!"

Moriyama put on his rare charming senpai getup, flashing the second year a smile. "We've made a reservation under the name Kise."

Ryouta gave him an incredulous look. "Moriyama-senpai, don't toss my name around like that. It's embarrassing."

"Ah, yes," Naoka replied, eyes scanning the clipboard in her hands. "You checked out the main room. Please, follow me, your friends are waiting for you."

Trailing after Naoka, Ryouta asked Moriyama, "Senpai, how _did_ you manage to contact these girls?"

"Let's just say I called in a favor from a cousin. It took a lot of convincing on my part, I think I owe her for life now." He warned, "So don't mess this up for me, Kise. I've a feeling this will be my last chance to get a girlfriend before I graduate."

"Eh, then why did you have to drag me into this? It's not like I'm here to get one anyway."

Ryouta admitted the second years did an impressive job at converting their classroom into a cafe. They replaced the school-issued curtains with peach-colored ones, and brought in round glass tables and matching chairs. They also added various hipster ornaments, like framed quotes, cat figurines, and some Gudetama merchandises. The room smelled distinctly of vanilla; he spotted an air purifier set on their counter.

His skin prickled as he walked behind Moriyama. Ryouta could feel pairs of eyes on his back, and his ears were quick to pick up on their whispers. A few girls called his name, and he graced each one with a wave and a smile.

Kagami remarked, "Jeez, literally everywhere you go, Kise, you draw in attention. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not really." Ryouta smirked. "It's actually fun!" _Most of the time._

"Here you go." Naoka pushed back a baby blue curtain. The main room was actually just a portion of the room sectioned off, nothing extravagant. It only contained a long glass table, where three girls sat.

"Hey," said Moriyama, taking a seat across them. "Sorry we took so long."

He gestured for the three to follow him.

Once settled, Ryouta clasped his hands together. "We should introduce ourselves! Okay, ladies first."

"Name, age, school, interests?" Moriyama chimed in. Kagami and Kuroko stayed silent.

Two of them exchanged looks before the girl that sat opposite Ryouta spoke. She had a plain face, but her fiery blue eyes more than made up for it. "I'm Takumi Hana, seventeen, Shinzen High. I like horses and softball."

"Horses, huh?" Ryouta mused. "Do you ride then?"

"Uh-huh," Takumi Hana answered eagerly. "Competitively."

"Aren't they kind of…wild?" Kagami asked. When they all stared at him, he explained, "See, I was traumatized when I was a kid. Back in America, we visited a farm, and I was brushing a horse's tail when it suddenly raised its hind legs and kicked me."

Kuroko added, "Maybe it mistook you for a snake, Kagami-kun. I've read that horses get deathly afraid of snakes."

"But he looks like a tiger," said Ryouta. "Don't most animals respect tigers?"

"He was still a cub back then. Cubs are considered prey."

"Moving on," Moriyama said, laying his eyes on the girl beside Takumi. "Your turn."

She had a pretty smile and a nice dark bob, and she talked in a soft voice. "I'm Ito Mari, seventeen, also from Shinzen High. I'm into reading and scrapbooking."

"Scrapbooking's safer than horse riding, I'm sure of that," commented Kagami, stroking his chin.

"Next." They all fixed their attention on the last girl, who sat opposite Kagami. Now Ryouta was sure she was from Kaijo. No visitor would come here wearing a ripped satin camisole dress with a katana strapped to her waist—she must be cosplaying. She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear, and her face gave nothing away as she said, "My name is Mizushima Ai. I love committing homicide."

"Pardon?" Moriyama leaned closer to hear her better.

"Killing people—it's my thing." She smirked, leaning back in her seat.

"What school are you from, Mizushima-san?" Kuroko asked calmly. Everyone else was taken aback.

"Kaijo."

"Oh." Kagami faced Ryouta with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know Kaijo High trained murderers. Is this a special program?"

Where did Moriyama-senpai plucked this one from? Creeped out, Ryouta decided to switch the mood. He announced, "Time to order!"

A bell sat on the middle of the table. He picked it up and rang it a few times. When a few minutes passed and no staff came, he rang it again. They waited some more. Ryouta checked the time on his phone. "Well, it's almost lunch hour, so they must be getting full."

"Give me that." Mizushima took the bell from him, shook it vigorously, and then threw it at the wall. It made a sharp, angry sound.

"Mizushima-san!" Ryouta exclaimed.

"Was that necessary?" asked Kagami, looking up from his phone.

Finally, having heard the crash, Naoka returned, distressed. "I heard a noise, is everyone alright?"

"Just a little accident." Ryouta smiled reassuringly. He'd lost count how many times he smiled today, and the afternoon had yet to roll by.

"Uh…" Naoka's gaze landed on the bell on the floor. "Are you sure?"

"We'd like to order now," Mizushima Ai piped in. She crossed her arms over her chest. He didn't intend to steal a glance at the notable swell of her breasts, but he did. He gulped.

"I'll be right back." Naoka rushed out of the room as though a ghost was hot on her heels.

Takumi Hana folded her arms on the table, grinning at the four boys. "Come on, guys, your turn. Tell us about yourselves."

It was a brisk process (to nobody's surprise, they all said they liked basketball), and by the time Naoka came back with the menus, everyone knew each other's name.

As Kagami listed off his orders, Mizushima Ai warned, "If I were you, I'd stick to the cheapest thing here. You're never guaranteed your money's worth at things like this."

What was up with her? She was souring the mixer right when she had first opened her mouth. True, mixers had stopped being Ryouta's thing a long time ago, but he maintained his courtesy. He was being _amenable_. And this Mizushima Ai, however she came to join them, was ruining things. Ryouta didn't want this mixer to end with an unhappy Moriyama, he felt bad enough that he had forgotten about this.

So, matter-of-factly, he told her, "Mizushima-san, Kagamicchi can order whatever he likes."

She shrugged, unbothered. "Just saying, no need to infect me with your self-righteousness." To Naoka, she said, "I'd like a vanilla milkshake, please."

 _At least she said please_ , he thought, but wasn't certain why he took note of that.

Naoka had lent them a box of Jenga Truth or Dare, to Moriyama's delight. Ryouta sighed—it was a hundred times better than exchanging awkward eye contact with these girls.

* * *

"Oh, I got truth," Ryouta said as he read the block he had pulled out from the bottom part of the tower. "'What's the last thing you took a picture of?' Hey, this is easy."

He showed them the most recent one on his phone—it was of Kasamatsu sleeping, open mouthed, hands over his chest, in their club room, probably taking a break from school festival preparations. Ryouta was happy to have found this gem while he was retrieving their blue-and-white banner as per the council president's instructions.

"He's…cute," said Takumi Hana, laughing.

"No, he looks like a bull taking a nap," countered Mizushima. "Look at those eyebrows—does he ever smile?"

Moriyama just about died at the sight of their captain. "Can you send that to me? I didn't realize I needed a sleeping Kasamatsu in my life until now."

Ryouta placed the block on the top. After eyeing the tower to make sure it wouldn't topple down, he asked, "Who's next?"

"I believe it is my turn," Mizushima said, leaning forward to take a block. She made a face as she read on. "'Give everyone in the room a hug.' Oh my god."

Reluctance was evident on her face, but the girls were having none of it. They chanted, "Hug us! Hug us! Hug us!"

She gave them hasty one-armed hugs—which the they gladly reciprocated—and returned to her place. She couldn't look at anyone. "Done."

"But you haven't given the guys hugs yet!" Ito Mari said.

"Three seconds—we promise!" Takumi Hana added.

Ryouta and the boys had gone silent, not meaning to impose on her. He noticed Kagami's and Moriyama's flushed faces, and hid a smug grin. Kuroko and he were the only ones unfazed by Mizushima Ai's dare.

"Please!" Takumi Hana insisted again. Ryouta thought that wasn't a wise choice. "We won't make it weird. Everyone, don't make it weird."

Mizushima Ai pursed her lips, and then conceded. The girls cheered.

She went over to their side of the table. Kuroko hugged her back, while Kagami froze on the spot. When she made over to him, she had her face turned away, standing on tip toes to sling an arm around his neck. He placed his hand on the small of her back, and realized just how small she was. From their brief body contact, he smelled coconuts and peppermint. Moriyama, needless to say, looked like his mission in life was finally complete.

"There." Running back to her place, she ran a hand through her hair. "Kuroko-kun, you're up."

But their game was interrupted. The curtain was swept back, and their food was paraded in.

Mizushima Ai cheerfully demolished the Jenga tower with a mere flick of her fingers. They retired the blocks into their container before settling down for lunch.

"Let's dig in!" Takumi Hana said, her fork poised to dive into the creamy swirls of pasta.

Ryotua was about to, when Mizushima Ai asked Kuroko, "Hey, Kuroko-kun, where's your food?"

Their heads turned to him, and sure enough, Kuroko sat there, arms folded in his lap, the expression on his face giving nothing away. He answers, "I think Naoka-san must have forgotten me."

Mizushima Ai scoffs, pushing her milkshake toward him. "Well, that's awfully rude. You've been sitting there the entire time. Here, take mine. I'm going to get another one."

Something in her words piqued Ryouta's curiosity—and apparently Kagami's as well, because he cast a puzzled look at him. _Could it be that she can see Kurokocchi?_ Ryouta wondered. His friend had a low presence, which meant he was invisible to many. Ryouta wasn't even sure if the other two girls noticed his comments the whole time. This was a surprise.

Standing up, Mizushima Ai pushed back her chair and left the main room.

"Kuroko you idiot," said Kagami, "you should have said something."

"I did. A few times," Kuroko replied, deadpan. "Should I give this back to Mizushima-san?"

"It'll be pretty useless. She's not going to come back without a milkshake, so that's yours now."

"I hope Mizushima-san won't cause a scene," mused Ito Mari, who hadn't touched her sandwich. "She's a nice girl but she's full of…energy."

 _More like full of spite_ , Ryouta thought. But, like the rest, he agreed.

After a few minutes of idle conversation, their food left untouched (much to the disappointment of Kagami's rumbling stomach), Takumi Hana said, "Okay, shouldn't milkshakes not take more than five minutes?"

"I vote we check up on her," Ito Mari declared. "She definitely made a scene."

Moriyama stood up. "I'll do it—I'm the one who dragged her into this, after all."

Ryouta let out a small sigh. Whether he liked it or not, _he_ was the perfect candidate for the job. His communication skills weren't all that impressive next to Momoi Satsuki's or Akashi Seijuro's, but he prided in them nonetheless. His senpai could barely even placate a hotheaded Hayakawa during practice, Ryouta couldn't imagine what he would do with Mizushima Ai. So he volunteered himself. "No, I'll do it, senpai. I'm going to be right back."

He walked out of the room, leaving no time for Moriyama to decline.

Much to his confusion, Mizushima Ai was not in sight. Where could she be? It wasn't like the classroom had a lot of hiding spots.

Ryouta grabbed the nearest staff's arm, and thankfully it was Naoka. "Naoka-san, have you seen Mizushima-san? You know, the one with the sword?"

Naoka shook her head. "No, I haven't, I'm afraid. I just got back from the other class."

"So she didn't ask you for a milkshake?"

"No." She looked puzzled. "Should I ask my classmates if they've seen her?"

Ryouta nodded his thanks. "Please do, Naoka-san, if it's not much trouble for you."

Deciding to look for her outside, Ryouta slid open the classroom door. The throng of people in the hallway had yet to thin down, and Ryouta dreaded it would take ages to find her.

Suddenly, a loud _thud_ sounded, pulling his attention to his right. It was followed by a chorus of gasps, and then a loud "Oi!"

The crowd made space for an incident, and Ryouta trudged over to get a better look. Panic struck him as soon as what he was seeing registered in his mind.

A towering guy with a shaved head stared down at Mizushima, who held fistfuls of his shirt, pushing him against the wall. He plastered a malicious smirk on his face.

Ryouta zeroed in on his face, his eyes narrowing. _Wait a second, doesn't he look familiar?_ He wasn't from Kaijo, he was certain of that, but Ryouta swore he saw him somewhere.

"Say it again," Mizushima Ai said through gritted teeth. Even from where he stood, Ryouta could tell her eyes burned. "Say it again. Let me hear it loud and clear."

The onlookers, Ryouta included, were glued to their places, powerless to stop the situation. He couldn't tell if they were afraid of the guy or Mizushima Ai, but he knew he was afraid of the latter.

The guy chuckled, eyes shining in amusement. His voice was deep when he spoke to her. "Hitch up your dress, why don't you? Some of us here are dying to see what you're hardly covering up."

Mizushima Ai growled. She grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket, bringing him to eye-level. "You're vile, you sicko. Did you come here just to harass teenage girls?"

"Look, sweetie," he replied, "I'm not the one looking like she wants to be picked up by the first guy who will, so what are you squealing about?"

He leaned into her ear, whispering something only she could hear. He snaked an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. A look of horror clouded her face, but it was quickly replaced by one of pure lividity.

With her hand still gripping his collar, she withdrew the other, puling it back to deliver a mean right hook straight to his jaw.

Ryouta did not see that one coming.

* * *

 _ **ahHHH i updated on a saturday! :D**_

 _ **the chapter title is the first line of sex by the 1975 btw**_

 **Ryu3003: _do you mean like aomine and momoi? because their friendship was one of the inspirations for kise and ai's. i usually suck at describing, so i was happy with how it came out! i know you can do it too! :) kuroo's gonna play a major role here, but that's all i'm going to say about him for now ;) thank you for the encouragement and lifting up my spirits :D_**

 **Nightmare-Taichou: _Thank you so much! :) and i'm sorry for the bait, but you're finally getting your long-awaited chapter :D ahhhh thank you so much for constantly reviewing, you make me happy!_**

 ** _don't forget to review, follow, and/or favorite!_**

 ** _thanks for reading :)_**


	5. III – the art of escape

**It happened in one swift** motion, but it took the visitor, and perhaps everybody else watching, a while to process the hit. His hand flew to his face, eyes wide in shock. The pain had yet to show on his olive skin, but Ryouta knew it would color soon. He acted fast, weaving through the crowd of spectators. And as he neared Mizushima, he saw the red beginning to appear on her knuckles.

"Mizushima-san," he breathed out. "Are you okay?"

She made no reply. Her eyes were still riveted on her target, who had fallen back against the cream wall. Ryouta wound an arm around her, steering her in the direction of the café, but Mizushima refused to go. She wriggled out of his hold and turned back to the visitor. Ryouta noticed her clenched fists at her sides as she spoke. "Someone watching has this on tape. And when it will leak, you are more likely to get suspended for sexual harassment than I am for punching you in the face."

He stopped massaging the emerging welt, mustering the gall to smirk. "And what makes you so sure of that, sweetie? You think I can't turn the tides on you?"

She flashed him a smile dripping with irony, and crouched down in front of him. "As a matter of fact, yes. You are one phone call away from walking into the courthouse with handcuffs around your wrists. And if you still squirm like the little worm you are, I'll have the coroner rule your death as an accident."

Somehow, Ryouta believed that, if she wanted, she could do what she promised.

But the visitor let out a humorless laugh, standing to his full height. Staring down at her, he said, "I'm not one to be so easily scared of empty threats. You wound me, sweetie. You have no clue who you're dealing with."

"'You have no clue who you're dealing with.' _Classic_." Her tone was venomous. Mizushima didn't need any physical advantages to appear menacing—she just was. "That should be on your mind the next time you decide to catcall a girl. Sit back down, scum."

Rising as well, she drew her leg back and then aimed a strong kick to his shin. The visitor howled in pain, lowering himself back and clutching the part she had hit. The crowd witnessed the whole scene stunned, while Ryouta felt he was going to faint from a mixture of panic and exasperation.

He gave the visitor a thorough look, and the recognition sunk in. He had played center for one of the schools Kaijo went up against in the Inter High. Ryouta remembered his dirty playing style and how he had taunted him and his teammates, like it was just a street game. _So he's an even bigger villain off court_ , he thought to himself. Ryouta had felt satisfaction as he watched his furious face when Kaijo grasped the sweet, sweet victory in their hands, and it surged in him again as his former opponent lay on the floor before him.

But as tempting as it was to let Mizushima pummel him to death, Ryouta didn't want this to escalate more than it already did. So he took hold of Mizushima's wrist with the intention of pulling her away. Unfortunately, the battle had yet to end. The visitor remembered him as well.

"Kise, that you?" he called out, recovering from the blow. "She's with you then? Letting your little beastie loose on me, eh? I should have figured you were out to get me."

The devoted audience reacted accordingly to his words. Hands flew to open mouths. Gasps echoed.

But it hardly affected Ryouta. He threw the visitor a nonchalant, almost disgusted glance. "Don't include me. I don't even know your name."

Mizushima's mouth formed a perfect _O_ , and the amazement she bore made suppressing Ryouta's anger worth it. "You're my new personal hero, Kise."

She waved to the visitor as Ryouta took her to the first floor, where his classroom was. Should he exact revenge on them, the others would be safe from peril at the café.

They carved a path through the throng of people, hastening their steps. Ryouta could barely toss a hello to anyone asking for it. He didn't mind—actually, he was glad. Ignoring every call, every camera, every gesture, Ryouta focused on the back of Mizushima's head, on the bounce of her long, pin-straight hair, on the katana swinging at her waist. He placed a hand on her back, urging her forward. How had he not noticed someone so… _explosive_ before? Had she always been in Kaijo, tormenting bullies and dispensing threats? Or did she appear exactly when the mixer called for one more girl, on Moriyama's wish?

When they descended the stairs, Mizushima asked, "Hey, Kise, where are we going?"

"We're going to my class, 1-3."

"Cool, my classroom's right beside yours."

Ryouta stared at her in disbelief. "Wait, you're a first year?"

She chuckled, motioning to her costume. "You don't think I look murderous enough with this? We're doing the horror house."

" _You_ 're from 1-4? So you're a first year and you're smart?"

"Oh, shut up. Your class is doing the movie theater, right? Boring. You should check out ours."

"Ah, I was supposed to do that with Kurokocchi and Kagamicchi!"

"Oh, right. I forgot about them. D'you think they're still at the café?"

"Obviously. Hold on, I gotta text them we're fine."

They made it to the bottom of the stairs. Ryouta found it ironic how their first proper conversation happened as they escaped from a disastrous encounter with a bully, rather than at the mixer. When not provoked, she wasn't as volatile as he had considered her to be. _Maybe she's like Aominecchi_ , he thought, recalling her previous behavior at the mixer. _They both have no verbal filter, but at least she has social graces._

And maybe he would go far as to say she was thoughtful, because they would not have been standing outside her classroom (which oddly did not appear to live up to its purpose as a horror house) had she not offered her milkshake to a disregarded Kuroko.

"This is it?" Ryouta asked, a little unimpressed. There were no cut-out ghosts or fake blood splatters, just a clean portion of the hallway. It was if they weren't participating in the school festival. "It's so…bare."

"Because that's what we want you to think." She placed her hands on her hips, looking proud. "This was my idea. I don't know if you can tell, but I avoid human interaction as much as I can. This is just a one-time thing, and it's in the name of scaring people, which is my favorite thing to do."

There was a queue waiting, and everyone in line stared at Mizushima as she unsheathed her katana. The knuckles gripping it were still a violent shade of red. Playing basketball trained him to become a fine connoisseur of injuries, and he knew a blooming bruise when he saw one. Lightly, he put his hand over it, saying, "Mizushima-san, you might want to—"

"Where were you, Mizu-chan? Fukunaga had to jack up his shift to cover for you!" Somebody interrupted him. It was her classmate, who sat at a small table outside the classroom, selling tickets.

Her eyes found Ryouta, and she seemed to have reached a conclusion. A knowing smile appeared on her face. "Oh."

Mizushima rolled her eyes at her, disdain evident on her face. "Dumbass, are you blind? It's not what it looks like. _I_ was just helping _him._ "

 _It's the other way around actually,_ Ryouta wanted to say.

Her classmate was unperturbed by neither her choice of words nor tone of voice. She merely ushered her in. "Well, time for work, Mizu-chan. The customers are requesting for you."

"Let's give them what they want." Mizushima looked up at Ryouta. "Follow me."

Although the horror house—as well as Mizushima Ai, who seemed to easily flip the turn of events like a coin—spiked his interest, Ryouta still had to return to his friends. Kuroko and Kagami came to Kaijo on his invitation, and there were still a lot for them to explore. He wanted to enjoy the day with them, as he had planned, not hide out with a girl he hardly knew.

His hand reached to rub the nape of his neck. He gave her a rueful smile. "I think the coast's clear now. I'm sorry, Mizushima-san, but I have to get back to my friends."

"Okay," she replied. "Suit yourself."

"You're safe here now, right?"

"You seriously asking that?"

"I'm just making sure." His eyes move to her hand. "And you need to ice that."

She nodded. "You looked nauseous, by the way, when I kicked that guy. You're weak for a guy your size, has somebody ever told you that?"

"You aren't supposed to make assumptions on people you just met, Mizushima-san." Ryouta dipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Don't get mauled on your way back."

Ryouta began walking away, thoughts of the malicious visitor evaporating from his mind. He offered Mizushima a lazy wave. "I'll see you around, Mizushima Ai."

* * *

 **"I remember now," Hanashi says** , finishing her coffee. "Mizushima-san was suspended after that, right?"

The Flamingo has attracted a swell of customers over the course of his storytelling, there were even times when his voice seemed to drown in the chatter.

A sheepish chuckle escapes Ryouta's lips. His milkshake is long gone, and in its place is a glass of cold water. "Yeah, there was only little she could do to shut down the guy, Nakajima Takahiro. He ended up reporting her to his school for assault. But she was only out for half a day. She managed to dodge the worst of it. To this day, she still won't tell me how she did it."

"She's quite the character," Hanashi muses, scribbling something on her notebook.

Ryouta hums in agreement, looking out the window.

Silence ensues for a few moments, until Hanashi pipes up, "Hey, senpai, what's her favorite flower?"

Facing back to her, he answers, "Ai-tan doesn't really like flowers. Something about a metaphor connected to them that bothers her. Why?"

Ryouta remembers the look on Ai's face when they were walking by a patch of blue hyacinths one spring morning on the way to school. Wonderment lit her storm-grey eyes as she surveyed the flowers. Her lips were slightly parted, as if releasing a soft sigh. When she made that expression, Ryouta realized how soft her features were, less sharp, less cutting. She only ever uses them to appear indifferent. She looked like a younger version of herself, a six year old dazzled by the beauty of nature for the first time. But it was gone as quick as it appeared, replaced by a downcast gaze and a mouth set in a thin, hard line.

Hanashi blows a raspberry, retiring her pen down next to her phone. "Ah, nothing. I was going to use that for the story, but…never mind."

Ryouta looks at her with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Hanashi-san. I'll make sure to ask her about it again."

Suddenly, Hanashi's phone pings, and a frown forms on her small face upon reading the message. She drops it into her book bag, along with the rest of her things, saying, "I'm sorry, Kise-senpai, but it looks like we have to cut our interview short. My mom's waiting for me at the train station."

"No worries, Hanashi-san." Ryouta slings his bag over his shoulder, holding the paper bag containing Ai's cake and latte in his hand. "Let's walk to the station together."

"Okay."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Ryouta says, as they are a just few steps out of the café. "Hey, can you wait for me outside? I need to talk to Watanabe-san a bit before we go."

Hanashi glances at the owner, who sits at a small table in the corner, typing away on her laptop. She nods, pushing open the glass door. "Sure."

"Watanabe-san?" Ryouta says, approaching her table. "Excuse me."

Watanabe-san removes her thick glasses, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Oh, Kise-kun, leaving so soon?" Checking the time on her phone, she adds, "Ah, Ayumi-chan will miss you again! She's always out and about after school, that girl. "

"It's okay, Watanabe-san. Maybe next time. We had to finish up early." He tightens his hold on the paper bag, and goes straight for it. "Watanabe-san, if it's not too much, I have a tiny favor to ask."

"I don't mind, I don't mind! What is it?" She laces her hands together, listening to him intently.

"If Ai-tan comes here, please don't mention to her that I was here with a friend. We're meeting in secret to plan a surprise for her."

"How adorable!" Watanabe-san laughs. She makes a zipping motion over her lips. "You can count on me, Kise-kun. Don't worry."

Ryouta bows. "Thank you so much, Watanabe-san!"

* * *

 _ **There's a bit here that I've put in to foreshadow something, can you spot it? :)**_

 ** _Thanks for reading! :)_**


	6. IV – the big news

**On the way to the faculty** office, Ai tries to brighten the somber mood by telling him the most terrifying knock-knock jokes in her signature deadpan tone. She has only half of his attention, because he has used the other half worrying about what Takeuchi might want to have a 'talk' with him. He is still convinced it's his grades, and he lets Ai know this is so.

"I've recovered from last year, right, Ai-tan?" he asks, absentmindedly wringing his hands. "Heck, I'm even in the _same_ college prep class as you, doesn't that mean something? I've upped my grades, didn't I?"

Ai bites her lip, clasping her hands behind her back. "I don't know, Ryou, I mean…the only subject you've passed the past two terms was English. And it was just barely…"

"Really? Have I done that badly? Where did I mess up?"

"I'm kidding!"

Ryouta issues a dramatic sigh. "I have to thank _you_ , Ai-tan, for being ever so willing to carry half of the burden I lug around. And I've got the universe to thank, too, for bestowing upon me such a loyal, supportive, and helpful friend."

"I'm glad you love the universe's gift for you." Ai gives him a mischievous grin. It's rare, and, for a second, it takes him aback. Does he have to be a bundle of nerves just to see her smile like that?

"I don't know what to expect," Ryouta says as they arrive at the fourth floor. "Is he going to kick me off the team? I don't recall having done anything wrong…"

Ai rolls her eyes at him. "You're Kise Ryouta. You're a disaster unto anyone but yourself—and yet, your team has kept you around. I don't see why that's going to stop anytime soon. Just relax, dumbo."

From dumbass to dumbo. What an improvement.

They're nearing the faculty office. Ryouta mutters, "I still think it's the grades."

Ai tells one parting joke, this time it isn't a knock knock. "Okay, this is the best one I googled, so shut your whining. What does the pianist say to a tightrope walker?"

Ryouta doesn't reply, so she pinches his arm. "What?"

"You better C sharp or you'll B flat."

"Oh, god." He drags a hand over his face. "You are the worst, Ai-tan."

She rocks on her heels, looking smug and invincible. "Do you want to me to wait for you here or…?"

"I'll swing by the music room to come get you, okay?"

"Great." Ai nods. Just when he is about to enter, Ryouta feels a tug at his sleeve. He turns to Ai one last time, and she says, "It won't be your grades."

Thankfully, the door has been left open, so he is saved from the embarrassment of having to knock. He maneuvers his way through the maze of desks, piles of notebooks, and potted plants, all the while his heart racing. _It's not the grades_ , he repeats in his mind. _It's not the grades. It's not the grades._

"Ah, Kise! Come here!" Takeuchi-sensei, whose camp is located by the window, beckons him over. Standing by the table he is sitting at is the basketball team's captain, Hayakawa Mitsuhiro. "Hayakawa has just told me of a new play he'd like for the team to try next week."

"Oh, new play?" Ryouta breathes out a sigh of relief. "Sure, that's what I'm here for, right? I'm all ears."

Hayakawa crosses his arms over his chest, proud. "It's ca(ll)ed the Pineapp(l)e P(l)ay."

"Pineapple Play?" Ryouta echoes, slowly nodding. "That's…cool, senpai."

"Wait 'ti(l) you see it fo(r) you(r)self, Kise!" He thrusts a dog-eared sheet of paper in to him. Ryouta's eyes skillfully peruse sets of formations. Hayakawa is a good leader and has a strong game sense, but Ryouta has never seen him devising impressive strategies such as these (though he can't see any nod to a pineapple in the play itself).

"These are amazing, senpai! I didn't know you were amazing at tactics!" He returns the paper to Hayakawa, stroking his chin. "They require a lot of footwork, though, and individual skill sets we currently don't have. How are we going to achieve this?"

It's not that the basketball team has met a power decline post Ryouta's first year—in fact, he's seen improvements in the matches they've played in—it's that Ryouta's losing teammates he can trust. And with Hayakawa graduating, who will steer the team in the right direction?

"You're not asking the right question, Kise," Takeuchi-sensei says, smiling knowingly. His finger taps on the paper Hayakawa has placed on the table. "How are _you_ going to achieve this?"

Ryouta cocks his head to the side. "What do you mean, sensei?"

Hayakawa and Takeuchi-sensei exchange a glance.

"Did you not have a sing(l)e idea _why_ you were ca(l)(l)ed in?" Hayakawa asks. "Didn't Kasamatsu tell you it would go down like this?"

"Hayakawa and I have agreed, Kise," Takeuchi-sensei continues, lacing his hands together under his chin, "that you are the ideal captain for next year's team."

All the color on Ryouta's face drains, and he stumbles on his words. "W-What? But I can't be the captain!"

"Why not?" Takeuchi-sensei asks. "You're a valuable player, and you've proven your worth, and I've watched your growth as both a player and as a person since you were a first year. You've formed a bond with your teammates the past two years and learned to honor teamwork above else. I don't think there's a fault in my decision."

"I'm the ace!" Ryouta reasons. "Aces can't be captains—that's the rule, right?"

Hayakawa smacks him upside the head. "You'(r)e sti(l)(l) hung up on that? To think _I_ (r)ecommended you to the coach! You'(r)e disg(r)acing me, Kise! G(r)ow up and be happy about it!"

Throughout his fiery spiel, Hayakawa's lisp has strained through, making his words barely comprehensible. But being teammates with him for so long, Ryouta has become adept at understanding his language. Rubbing the back of his head, he stares at him. "You…recommended me?"

"We(l)(l) of cou(r)se I did!" Hayakawa haughtily says. "You're the only one pe(r)fect to take the job afte(r) me!"

"He's right, Kise," Takeuchi-sensei says. "Currently, you're the most familiar with the team dynamic and have the most potential."

"Currently?"

"And whether you want it or not," he continues, "you will be the new captain starting the spring term. I have high hopes for you to reach the bar your predecessors set for you."

Everything around Ryouta seems to be happening in a fast pace, and despite everything he is doing to keep up, Hayakawa and Takeuchi-sensei are still one page ahead of him. His mind barely registers each word that comes out of their lips—but one dread remains. Meekly, he says, "I can't be captain. I'm the ace. I'm not made to be like Kasamatsu-senpai or Hayakawa-senpai. There has to be someone else."

"The coach didn't ask for you(r) opinion, Kise!" Hayakawa scolds.

"My word is final," Takeuchi-sensei says, after clearing his throat. "When you walk out this room, I don't want you to think about wanting the position, or even resigning from the team. What I want you to do is think about how you're going to nail down Hayakawa's new play with _your_ team."

For the first time in his life, Ryouta has never felt so unsure as in that moment.

* * *

 **Being a captain has never** been Ryouta's goal. In fact, not once in the years he has been playing basketball, has he ever thought of making it a goal. He knows himself too well, and he knows that he _will_ screw it up.

He thinks it's a talent—being the biggest person in a group, having a rational mind, commanding with a deep voice. Aren't talents supposed to be innate? He doesn't have an ounce of that, and it's too late to start pretending he does. You could ask him to do anything—from tightroping, spiking a volleyball, to playing the violin—and the odds of Ryouta not being able to do it would be _slim._ But leadership? No, it was another thing entirely. He wasn't designed to lead—he was designed to shine in the spotlight, unhindered with responsibilities.

It's not that he is spineless—far from it, actually. It's just that no fiber in his body has held even an inkling of desire to be the next captain. He's confident that the coach and Hayakawa have set him up to fail. And he doesn't want to see that disaster come true.

There has to be an option they're overlooking—his means of escape. They can't just drop the weight on him as easily and suddenly as that. He'd be damned if he left the team, so he'd rather die trying to find another way.

* * *

 **Music seeps through the cracks** of the closed door of the music room. His hand around the doorknob, he closes his eyes and listens to Ai play. He stands there for a few seconds, dumbfounded. The style is silky and calm and earnest, very unlike Ai's usual. Is she playing Chopin?

Gingerly, he lets himself in. In the middle of the bare room is a sleek grand piano, and behind it sits Ai, her eyes shut in concentration. Ryouta studies her face for the rest of the piece. When she plays, he likes to imagine she has been transported somewhere else, and wherever that is, she makes him want to follow her. It must be beautiful there if she looks at peace, serene, almost as if she is sleeping. Her eyebrows are slanted, and her lips are set in a pout, occasionally pulled back by her teeth. She keeps her head low, her chin nearly reaching her chest, and when she finishes, she throws her head back, sighing, finally reappearing after a lifetime in Neverland.

Ai is truly at her loveliest when she loses herself to her own music.

She opens her eyes, and her gaze lands on him. Putting her glasses back on, she says, "That was horrible, wasn't it?"

He gives her a brief applause, striding toward her. "You're being delusional—that was beautiful! You didn't tell me you've started playing Chopin."

She stares at him incredulously. "You knew that was Chopin?"

"Uh, _duh_." He takes a seat beside her in the tiny piano chair, his shoulder brushing hers. He lies, "We listened to him when you were tutoring me, remember?"

He doesn't tell Ai that he recognizes Chopin from the countless times he has stayed up late to memorize her repertoire, listen to every work of her favorite composers, and watch famous pianists perform their guts out on YouTube. It would be embarrassing if she found out about this—about how much he yearned to be sucked into her world.

"Oh, yeah. You said you liked him." She shrugs. "To this day, I still can't see why. He's so unspectacular he makes babies fall asleep."

"Uh, you do know that it's a scientifically proven fact that classical music is good for babies, right? There are literally a hundred playlists for them on Spotify. But anyway, if you say you don't like him, then what's up with this?"

She closes the lid on the piano. "When you're functioning on zero hours of sleep, you won't believe all the bad decisions your mind forces you into making. Trust me, you don't want to know how I got to Chopin. So how did it go?"

Ryouta debates with himself about telling her. He's not ready to make it a real thing yet. But the words force themselves out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I'm the captain."

"Wow, okay, that's a surprise." She catches the expression on his face, so she adds, "But a pleasant one! I was expecting something along the lines of Takeuchi booting you off the team for your flashiness."

"I do not show off! That much, I guess…" Ryouta rests the side of his head on top of hers. "It won't matter what sensei says, I've made up my mind. I'm not going to accept it. It's a suicide mission."

Ai inches away from him, so he is forced to give up a rather comfortable position. She throws him a puzzled glance.

"You're not smiling," she says, gazing up at him with doe eyes. He stares back. Her remark is hushed, even though they're the only people on the entire floor. She shakes her head, as if ridding her mind of immaterial thoughts. "It's so…never mind. So why don't you take it? I don't think you have much of a choice, and it's useless to act like you do."

He lifts the lid open and presses a high A. "Because I know I'm not made to be the captain? Because I never asked to be one? Because I know I'm doomed to mess things up? There are so many logical reasons I could choose from, but all of them mean the same—I will fail. Badly. It seems my own captain and coach don't know me at all."

"Well aren't you being oddly unconfident today. Is this a side of you I haven't met yet?"

"It's a side even I thought didn't exist." He buries his face in his hands. "You're the smarter one here, Ai-tan, do you have any advice on how to get me out of this situation?"

Ai sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. "Do you want to hear my opinion, Ryou?"

"You're going to say it anyway. I know it."

A pregnant pause ensues briefly, before Ai begins, "You're acting like a kid right now. A very stupid kid. You want everything to go your way. You want to have the final say. You expect Takeuchi and Hayakawa to concede to your wish and compromise for someone else instead, when they know very well that you're best suited for it. And why do you feel as though you're in a chokehold? Because you are Kise Ryouta, and Kise Ryouta is this one-of-a-kind, multi-talented person who _never_ fails. And yet he is afraid of failure. So Kise Ryouta does not want to take this, because he knows that if he will, he's running the risk of failing."

He opens his mouth to defend himself, but she holds up a hand to stop him. "I'm not done yet."

She continues, "Whatever's going on in your head right now, you're going to forget about it when you've become the best captain in the history of Kaijo High, and all your teammates look up to you. You're going to forget about this moment when your head is too high up and you're in love with the feeling of being depended on. I'm sure Kasamatsu-senpai and Hayakawa-senpai were both asking the same questions you have right now. They didn't ask for it and sure as hell didn't believe in themselves at first, but look how they handled it. And if their success is any indication, then you will be just _fine_."

"Ai-tan…" She has confessed on multiple occasions she isn't good at reading people, but right now he disagrees. Only little of the war inside of him has he projected to her, but Ai has witnessed all of it upon casting a mere look at him. And she's never one to disclose comfort to him when he needs it, but here she is, heaving a deep breath after talking in paragraphs. For a fleeting moment, he forgets about the problem and grins, glad to have met this side of _her_.

Triumphant, Ai smirks back. "Your goofy face is back on. I think it's safe to say I've done my job well. Now it's time you do yours."

Ryouta reaches for her face, marveling at how small it is compared to his large hand. He pulls off her wireframe glasses, folds them, and hides them away in his breast pocket. Her eyesight isn't that severe, so he knows she won't complain. He'll give them back when they get back to the classroom, but right now, somebody else is sitting beside him.

"You're taking them off again," Ai says, rubbing the translucent spots of skin under her eyes. "Why?"

With her glasses no longer obscuring her ice grey eyes, the cerulean flecks are visible, like chinks in a metal armor. He has always found her eyes to be otherworldly, peculiar. Bewitching. If he stares into them for too long, a buried truth will resurface from within him and present itself to her, glistening in shame and guilt.

"I want you to be honest," he says, not adding, _Like how your eyes do to me_. "How did you get through to me so easily?"

"Simple." Ai smiles, a gentle one this time. Her fingertips graze his cheek, cold as betrayal. They're gone in a blink. "Here's another thing Kise Ryouta is clueless about—he's so transparent when he's with me."

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a review :)**_


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